


The Concubine

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Mpreg, Piercings, Ritual Sex, Sounding, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-03
Updated: 2012-08-03
Packaged: 2017-11-11 08:06:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/476403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abraxas Malfoy gives his 18 year old son, Lucius to Voldemort as a bonded concubine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Concubine

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this over a year ago. I ran across it and finally decided it was ok to post it. :)

As I made my way to my father’s study I noticed him standing in the foyer with the Dark Lord and Cygnus Black. They caught sight of me before I could slip into an alcove and hide, to my dismay. The Dark Lord had a habit of looking at me as though I was a tasty morsel and I found it discomfiting. He was a handsome man but my interests lay elsewhere. I was betrothed to Cygnus Black’s daughter, Narcissa, who I found to be a very beautiful, powerful witch. I looked forward to marrying her. My father called me to them; I made my greetings, and waited to see what they would say to me. 

Looking at me rather smugly the Dark Lord spoke first. “We have been discussing you, Lucius. I hope you are pleased with the decisions we have made concerning your future.”

My mind went blank. I glanced at my father, who was rather obviously trying to avoid my gaze. Cygnus Black looked me in the eye and I knew I would be anything but pleased with the decisions they had made, or rather the Dark Lord had made. 

“With your wise counsel, Milord, I know that whatever conclusions you have come to will be most pleasing.” I wanted to throw up. For the first time in my life I was truly afraid, terrified actually. Making sure the expression on my face was one of open curiosity, I then smiled at him. I had not realized I was holding my breath until he smiled back at me. Perhaps I could come out of whatever they had decided, alive. 

The Dark Lord and Black left after a few moments. Hoping for some explanation, I just looked at my father. He seemed to find whatever he needed within himself and finally met my eyes. I had never seen Abraxas Malfoy look defeated in any way and in that moment he looked broken beyond repair. 

“Lucius, I…” he whispered. “Let’s go to my study. This is no conversation for others to hear.” 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A week later I stood in the hallway outside of the ballroom at Riddle Manor waiting to be formally presented to the Dark Lord. My father and Cygnus Black stood with me. They were to be the witnesses to this travesty my life was to become, after I walked through those ballroom doors. That night instead of receiving the dark mark on my forearm and swearing my allegiances to the Dark Lord, like anyone else, I was to become his bonded slave. It was his way of ensuring that he had control of the Malfoy fortune. 

The bond was not registered with the Ministry but instead Gringott’s took care of the matter. If it had been dealt with by the ministry, I would no longer be able to inherit from my father. In two weeks time I would be married to Narcissa Black but not bonded. I wondered what hold the Dark Lord had over Cygnus Black to get him to agree to put his daughter into this situation. He threatened to kill my mother to get my father to agree; perhaps he had done the same to Black. I vowed that no matter what, I would do everything I could to treat Narcissa with respect and kindness. We were pawns in a game and I would do everything I could to make it bearable for her. 

The doors to the ballroom opened. I walked in showing all the bravado befitting a Malfoy but behind the façade I was trembling like a leaf. I knelt at his feet, kissed the hem of his robes, then waited. I waited on the man who was threatening to kill my mother and had broken my father. Bile rose in my throat. I forced it back down and dreamt of a glass of water. I could feel sweat running down my back and hoped it didn’t soak through my robes for anyone to see. Voldemort reach forward and touched my hair. 

“He’s lovely, Abraxas. A fitting Malfoy heir.” I would have smirked if not for the training I had in controlling my emotional responses. 

“Thank you, milord.” My heart broke hearing the tone of defeat in my father’s voice. 

With a finger touching the underside of my chin he led me to stand up. I stood and waited for his direction. This seemed to please him. It was in that moment that I realized I had no way to fight this. The survival of my family depended on me being able to accept this situation. I looked at him. Voldemort was an attractive man who I would not find a hardship to have in my bed or rather, in his bed. 

He sat back on the throne which was placed at one end of the ballroom. He took my hand and pulled me to him. I straddled his thighs and put my hands on his shoulders. My father and Black were drawing a ritual circle around the throne. I watched a moment. 

He touched the side of my face and turned me to him again. “Don’t watch them. This is about us.” He handed me a goblet which I took and drank from until it was empty. It appeared to be just wine, but I knew better than that. “This will help you to relax, Lucius.” 

My long formal robes which were wide enough at the bottom to accommodate the way I was sitting. With a quick charm our robes were unbuttoned. He pushed my robes from shoulders, down my arms, and to the floor. Strong hands pulled me to him, then gently pressed my head to rest on his shoulder. 

“Have you been with a man before, Lucius?” 

“Just women.” 

The potion was starting to affect me. I felt relaxed, almost woozy, but not in a bad way. The heat from his hands, as he ran them up and down my back, seemed to soak deep within me. Going limp, I soon lost track of what he was doing. By the time I felt those oiled fingers run down the crease of my arse I could barely move. I could not help the groan that came from deep within me. Voldemort chuckled. I didn’t know it could feel that good to have those fingers enter me and gently stretch. My cock and balls were starting to ache. Pressing against him, I could feel how hard he was. With a hand on each of my shoulders he pushed me up and then helped me to turn around. Black and my father started chanting in Latin in the background. He held me poised on the end of his cock and then gently pushed until he was all the way in. I gasped. It burned and then he brushed against a spot inside me that made me see stars. Strong arms held me around my waist. He stopped moving. 

At that moment my life was irrevocably changed. I opened my eyes when he stopped. Black handed him a thin rod about 6 inches long that looked to be made of wax. He held up my cock and gently squeezed so that the slit was more open, then inserted it. My eyes widened as it went down. It burned. Panic shot through me, then pleasure. My cock was on fire, but it didn’t hurt. I arched my back and he pressed a hand on my belly to hold me in place. We were very still until the wax melted. I drew a sharp breath as whatever potion was in the rod made its’ way to my balls. It started to ache unbearably. I tried to get away from him but he held me in place until the ache went away. The potion rendered me sterile. I would never again produce any sperm. The only way I would ever produce an heir was if he impregnated me. I didn’t know that until several years later so when he started pushing in and out of me I was happy to move with him. He pulled my hands behind my neck.

“Hold them there.”

I obeyed and he rewarded my obedience. He teased my nipples until they were tight buds. 

“I want rings in those.” He brushed his hand down my belly and squeezed my cock. “You’ll look lovely with a Prince Albert in the end of your cock, and you will thank me for putting one here,” he said, then brushed a finger across my perineum. The next thing I new he held his wand to where we were joined and chanted softly in Parseltongue. The explosion of power was incredible. Light filled every corner of that ballroom. I knew nothing more until I woke up the next day. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When I woke up next, I was in my bed at the Manor. Turning, I saw my father sitting in a chair at my bedside, asleep. He appeared to have aged 30 years overnight. It frightened me. Pulling back the covers, I gasped when I looked at myself. There was a tattoo around my cock. As quietly as possible, so as to not wake up my father, I hurried into the bathroom. 

Standing before the mirror, I got a good look at the tattoo. It was a snake, wrapped around my cock and balls, and the head was half-way into my anus. The piercings he had mentioned were also there. I had to admit they looked good. I was glad to see that they were healed so soon. There was no dark mark on my forearm and I wondered how that would work.

The next day the tattoo heated up and within moments I was panting and aching to come. I was unable to do anything but Apparate to where he was. Shame courses through me when I think about how quickly I was on my knees before him, begging him to fuck me, to let me come. The control he had over me was horrifying. Over the next couple of years I took a good hard look at my life and this situation. What I wanted more than anything was for my family to survive. 

Narcissa and I married and after a while she started to desire a baby. We tried and never conceived. Finally, we went to a healer who stated that Narcissa was fine but I was sterile. I confronted Voldemort. He told me what he did during the ritual, to ensure my sterility, and with a smug grin let me know, the only way we would ever have a child, was if he decided to make me pregnant. Once I did get pregnant they would magically transfer the foetus into Narcissa’s uterus and she would carry the child. She would be able to blood adopt him thus giving him three bloodlines. 

When I went to discuss this with, Narcissa I was devastated. She was so incredibly strong as she listened to what I had to say. Her only words were, “We will get through this Lucius; don’t worry.” We were ecstatic when Draco was conceived. The transfer was successful. She was lovely with her full belly and swollen breasts. When he was born I named him Draco Lucius Black Malfoy. The Dark Lord had given that choice to me since he would be my heir. 

Over time Narcissa and I stopped being intimate. Our disappointment over not being able to have a child that was just ours and me being called to Voldemort’s side six or seven times a week made it seem too difficult. I encouraged her to find someone who would love her. I had an heir; there was no need to keep up any pretense of intimacy when neither of us was really able to cope well with this situation. We were determined to remain good friends and to cooperate with each other for Draco’s sake. 

I decided I owed the Potter family a life debt after that Halloween evening when Voldemort was vanquished. Through the bond I could feel that he was still alive but I relished being out from under his control. We enjoyed those years as a family, Draco, Narcissa and I. Draco was a happy child. I knew I had to make sure that he was never in my position: enslaved to a dark lord to keep my mother from being killed. The night of that final battle, between Voldemort and Potter, I knew we had made the right decisions as we stood in the Great Hall and watched him finally die.


End file.
